sarahcentric

“Part II?! Was my Blog DVR not set to record Part I?! DAMN IT!” No need to worry…you can find Part I of this riveting tale right here.

Hmmm…where was I? Oh…right!

And so there I am trying to choose which goblet was more likely to be the Holy Grail, (please, like there was even a choice. Hellooooo…Carpenter’s Son!), when Harry Potter appears and is all “Sarah, I think that Plumpy’nut could be a Horcrux!”. And I’m all, “Harry, please! I find it pretty hard to believe that He Who Must Not Be Named would turn Plumpy’nut into a Horcrux! Now, did you bring Pumpkin Juice like I asked? I’m thirsty as hell!”

Then, I swear to God, James Franco shows up!! And he looked crazy hot, like in that “Pineapple Express” trailer! And don’t worry, he definitely asked me out on a date. But you know…whatever! Where was he when I was available?! So I’m all, “James that is really sweet and yes, you look crazy hot. But you know what, kinda busy right now trying to solve childhood malnutrition here.” And he just turned away and moped out, like all sad and stuff. And you know that Harry Potter loved it. He gave me a high-five and was all “girlfriend, you were FIERCE!” and I was all “DIVA, you know this!! Now let’s get back to work!”

Wait…No. That was last weekend. Oh, I remember!

Hungover on the couch. In Queens. A pint of ice cream… probably Oatmeal Cookie Chunk.

The real details of the day that 60 Minutes segment on Plumpy’nut aired don’t look like fertile ground for charitable inspiration on paper, or “on blog”. But in looking back, I’m sure the World knew that if it needed any of my help, it would have to catch me at my least distracted and most receptive. Since I am no longer a college student who can drink Quarter Drafts all night long and hangovers have become a major medical emergency for me, the World’s timing was perfect.

Ok, Plumpy’nut 101. Get your notebooks out. Since I barely passed my science Regents exams in high school, here is a quote directly from the 60 Minutes transcripts.

Why are so many kids dying? Because they can’t get the milk, vitamins and minerals their young bodies need. Mothers in these villages can’t produce enough milk themselves and can’t afford to buy it. Even if they could, they can’t store it — there’s no electricity, so no refrigeration. Powdered milk is useless because most villagers don’t have clean water. Plumpynut was designed to overcome all these obstacles.

It is basically made of peanut butter, powdered milk, powdered sugar, and enriched with vitamins and minerals. It tastes like a peanut butter paste. It is very sweet, and because of that kids cannot get enough of it… It doesn’t need refrigeration, water, or cooking; mothers simply squeeze out the paste. Many children can even feed themselves. Each serving is the equivalent of a glass of milk and a multivitamin.

Now, this is where someone else would write about fiery waves of human outrage and the shedding of a thousand saintly tears. But this is SARAHcentric…not someonelsecentric. Nope. I just took a shower and got ready for bed.

But apparently, the World had made room for a jar of Plumpy’nut on some shelf in my brain. Look, I’m not a robot and I was definitely moved by the terrible suffering of these African families. And then you see the amazing work of volunteers like Doctors Without Borders who witness senseless death like that first-hand everyday. It is unfathomable. Unfortunately, there are a gazillion painful stories like this. And the scope of these tragedies is so massive that it can feel almost impossible to really connect with it on a personal level. Bottom line, these stories make me sad. But at the end of day, I just don’t get it. Pain and tragedy on that level are so inconceivable to me, (thank god), how can I possibly relate?

However, if you tell me the solution to a crazy world crisis is pretty much just a regular grocery item….
And best of all, the product’s name is pretty much the best name for anything. Ever. In the entire world?

Now I get it.

Ok, so now you’re thinking, “Sweet! This is where Sarah starts a huge letter writing campaign and then she swears off all Peanut Butter until every child in Africa has access to Plumpy’nut!”

Wrong.

For 3 or 4 months, Plumpy’nut was nothing more than a conversation starter or filler with friends when I felt compelled to bring it up out of nowhere. Once in a while, I’d google Plumpy’nut just to see how it was doing, and to see if it was dating anyone. But when Plumpy’nut rode the subway home with me popping in and out of my brain again, months after I’d seen that 60 Minutes… I went ahead and just asked him what the hell he wanted.

So finally, Plumpy’nut and I sat down over some sandwiches, (obviously Plumpy’nut only had jelly on his bread) for a brainstorm about what we thought I could bring to the table. Of course, there was the “Oprah’s Big Give” style plans in which one little spark lights a fire that could wipe world hunger off the face of the Earth. But once again, dreams like that…I don’t really get it. Dream big. Whatever, fine. But don’t dream so big that your original inspiration becomes a hot mess. Let me put it this way; when you plan to run your first marathon you’re all about the number 26.2, as in the insane amount of miles some fool decided we should run to feel like complete human beings. But I got news for ya’… when race day arrives, the ONLY thing you can wrap your dehydrated head around is the number 1; one more step, one more step. That’s how it gets done.

Right at the top of the meeting, I explained to Plumpy’nut that my only goal this year is to investigate the person that I really am at any given moment, and then just be that person no matter what. I am not Mother Teresa or Dr. King, no matter how much I wish I could be. Plumpy’nut thought I sounded a little flaky and made a couple of snotty jokes about hacky-sacks and bongos. But he was willing to work with me to come up with a solution. After a few hours, Plumpy’nut and I came up with a to-do list.

1) The amount of Plumpy’nut needed to save one child’s life costs 15 bucks. Plumpy’nut and I agreed that I would figure “one jar of Plumpy’nut” a week into my weekly groceries budget. When I buy my Jif, I would also buy Plumpy’nut. (By the way, Jif is the only peanut butter there is and I don’t want to hear a word about it.)

2) Plumpy’nut asked that I contact someone at Project Peanut Butter, an American group which runs plumpy’nut factories and medical teams feeding children in Sierra Leone and Malawi. He wanted me to personally offer my assistance and tell them about some of my ideas. I agreed, reluctantly. “Fine! But I’m going to tell them I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and none of this stuff may work, and that this is all your stupid idea!” Plumpy’nut agreed.

3) I have taken my problem with baking and sweets to work for years now. Not only do I bake on the weekends for my co-workers, but I’ve also coordinated ridiculously competitive bake-offs at the office. Since I am lucky enough to have friends as co-workers, (which means they must be as strange as I am), I figured I could arrange a charity bake-off thing in honor of our last week at an old office space, and to build some good karma for our move to a new office. Very delicious. Very fun. Very me…and very in line with my hippy, Buddhist resolution. Plumpy’nut agreed that my friends and I are strange, so it just might work.

By the time Plumpy’nut finished his jelly sandwich and left, we had a working plan to turn my thoughts, interests and friends into… something. For…someone. And I was pretty sure it involved baked goods.

As I told Plumpy’nut earlier, when I watch the news I sometimes wish I could be a Gandhi on a Salt March, or a Rosa Parks sitting at the front of the bus. And sometimes I want to be Thandie Newton because she has good hair, or Tina Fey because she’s freaking hilarious. But all I can really do is persistently live and love my own life as truthfully as possible. Norman Fischer put it far better than I just did in a talk he gave called “Calling Yourself”. He is an awesome Zen teacher who should be famous, and if he were my professor in college, I would have had a crush on him.

“When that vastness–when that indefinable, inconceivable aspect of the universe decides to appear where I’m sitting the only the only way it can appear is like this. The only way the universe can manifest itself where you’re sitting is through you– through your body, through your life, through your disasters and joys and problems.”

That’s good enough for me. And it sure as hell better be good enough for Plumpy’nut.

To be continued…

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